Fogarty

The family history Is written on rock. Six distinct windows, Each facing heaven:

A corpse garden, Full of corpse flowers.

Fogarty was the last, And, because of the pain Of twelve hips broken, He never spoke Until he joined them, Until his hands drew blood From stone.

Oisín Breen

Learn by heart: tap a gap

Is on rock.
Full of corpse .
Open the trainer

Keep going on the web or in the app.

Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem

Learn Poems app

Try the Learn Poems app

Everything from the website trainer, and more: new exercises, voice recording and sharing, reminders, quick review.